


Conflict of Interest

by Dreamer in the Dark (Dream_Wreaver)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Mayumoth, Post Miraculer, Smut, limited plot, miraculer spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 18:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19156207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dreamer%20in%20the%20Dark
Summary: Gabriel Agreste is a man tied down by committment and refuses to acknowledge attraction when he's happily married. Nathalie Sancoeur is his right hand, his assistant, and his most loyal supporter, someone who would never sleep with her boss; especially if her boss was married. Hawkmoth and Mayura, however, have no such restrictions on their own attraction to one another.





	Conflict of Interest

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back? Moi, though don't expect anything like regular updates. I was inspired by a drawing of Mayura a friend did, hope you guys like it

Gabriel Agreste was very much a man in love with and committed to his wife Emilie. And considering how much he disliked other people, to the point where even a comparison he viewed as unfavorable was completely unacceptable. Gabriel Agreste was no mere ordinary man. If someone else’s spouse had fallen into a coma -magic induced or not- surely they would begin to heal if there were no outward signs of improvement. To the point where they might be able to realize that keeping a person’s body with them when their spirit had already moved on was cruel to all parties involved, and perhaps find the strength to let them go. Gabriel Agreste was not that sort of man. When he loved, something, someone, he held onto it as tightly as he could. His desperation for control over every situation so he could protect them would be seen by most as stifling, and perhaps even unhealthy. But surely, that sort of issue would be nothing in comparison to how people might view this mentality if the person exhibiting it were to  _ lose _ someone precious to them. Emilie was lucky in the sense that she wasn’t lost, yet. Simply, out of reach for the moment. Gabriel knew he could get her back if he just kept trying hard enough. But the problem wasn’t Emilie’s being out of reach, or even Gabriel’s current state of inability to bring her back from that point. The problem was, was that he had someone capable, confident, and absolutely gorgeous at his side, helping him out and acting as his rock when he needed it. And, that as much as he would hate the comparison, Gabriel Agreste was still only a man, with all of a normal man’s weaknesses. And the snag of it all was that Gabriel was very happily spoken for.

Hawkmoth, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. The supervillain of Paris was, by any account of the matter, unattached and therefore free to indulge in an affair or two. Except, life was never that easy. Had he kept Nathalie in the dark, had she not been made aware of who the masked man was from the very conception of Gabriel’s plan to bring Emilie back through the misuse of poor Nooroo, he might have been able to indulge with only minimal guilt. There was no denying Gabriel felt the weight of every sin he committed with every corrupted butterfly he sent out. He simply reasoned that his ends justified his means. But while Nathalie knowing had always made things easier, his intention had never been to drag her into the thick of it. But she’d convinced him, first with her willingly accepting his dark butterfly in order to bring her improved version of his original grand scheme to fruition, and then when she took up the mantle of the peacock even  _ knowing _ its risks in order to help him. Mayura was an invaluable aid, and that was problematic. Because she brought to him the best of Nathalie, and a hidden side he was certain she’d never have let him see otherwise. Nathalie Sancoeur was a woman firmly aware of the unspoken boundaries too many people in their positions tended to cross. And she knew exactly who he was under the mask. Mayura, however, was another story.

Despite the fact that she was the one out in the field, she was on more of an equal footing than Nathalie was with Gabriel. They were partners in crime, allies and equals. Their dynamic as villains was completely different from the one between their civilian selves. Gabriel’s naturally cold demeanor was both heightened and dampened, he had more affinity for theatrics and terrible puns that he for the longest time was his sole audience for. He also had a tendency to lose his cool and become more easily frustrated, sometimes making rash decisions when he was certain victory was just within his grasp. Nathalie was not afraid to stand up to him when she felt it truly important and necessary to do so, a guiding force in his life that kept him from being too stubborn and inflexible. But she could also be cowed incredibly easily at times, especially if his displeasure reared its ugly head at her. Mayura was more talkative, and confident, and a bit more gleefully sadistic than Nathalie allowed herself to be. Not in a physical way, but she absolutely  _ adored _ getting into her opponents’ head, toying with them much like a predator does with trapped prey. Peacocks by nature weren’t, but Mayura was a bird of prey, and of that there could be no question. And the sad part was, was it made her even more attractive to him. Her outfit didn’t help. Gabriel had based his interpretation of his supervillain outfit on the image he’d seen in the grimoire, update to reflect his own stylistic tastes. Nathalie had not had a template for Mayura, but her outfit was a complement to his own. Elegant and glamorous, but combat ready. The coat dress was certainly something he might have come up with, but its high slit was often a point of distraction for him; almost more so than when they laid in wait together in his lair and he could feel her heat right up against his back. And despite the alterations to her skin and eyes, that too gave her a sort of unearthly beauty and seductive allure, especially the pouty purple lips she sported. The only part of her outfit that was, since he didn’t count her eyes. He didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, aside from drawing his attention and attraction.

“I’m sorry Hawkmoth,” she said upon returning from her mission, to aid Miraculer and steal the Bee Miraculous, convincing Chloe Bourgeois to join their cause, “I failed,”

“No Mayura,” he was quick to reply. Perhaps they had lost the battle today, but she’d done more than an impeccable job in further shaking Chloe’s confidence in Ladybug.

Despite the girl’s words, Hawkmoth knew that Ladybug could no longer trust Chloe. And because Ladybug could no longer trust Chloe, Chloe would no longer see the heroine as her idol and as someone to be emulated. Between her and Lila Rossi, Chloe would slowly become ready for his future endeavor. And then, he paused a moment. Mayura had failed, she had said as much. Nathalie rarely failed, and the times she did he hadn’t been able to keep from imagining ways to punish her. It had only gotten worse since she had become his supervillain partner. And wasn’t this a rare opportunity, but he was conflicted. Could he put aside who he was beneath the mask and allow himself to indulge for once? Would she let him if he tried? Well, he would never know unless he went for it.

“However,” he added before he could stop himself, “If you feel that your actions today did not meet my expectations of you, I would be more than happy to dole out a fitting retribution.”

There, he’d said it. And it was casual enough that she could take it or leave it. Hawkmoth heard her sharp intake of air as she processed his little addition. Nathalie had always hated disappointing Gabriel, he wondered how Mayura might fare instead.

“I-” she began, and he could hear her frantically beating heart, feel it through his empathetic powers as though it were his own, “If you think that’s necessary, Hawkmoth,” she acquiesced, “What sort of punishment did you have in mind?”

“Come here,” he ordered, turning around to see her floating in the darkness of their shared space as she approached him.

“And now?” she raised a nearly translucent brow at him, a corner of her lips twitching even as she tried to hide it. Clearly she found something about the situation amusing, perhaps she had anticipated something a little more…  _ immediate _ . The problem was, Gabriel was still somewhat conflicted about whether or not he should be doing this, which meant going from zero to sixty was near impossible.

“I…” he hesitated, “I hadn’t gotten that far yet,” Hawkmoth admitted, a touch of sheepishness seeping into his tone.

“You know what I think?” Mayura asked as she strode even closer to him, close enough to touch his face through the mask.

“What?” even with the heels on she was still considerably shorter than him. That meant nothing when her mouth with that tempting purple color was still well within his reach.

“I think,” she whispered, drawing even closer, “That you’re overthinking this. There is nothing holding you back Hawkmoth, aside from yourself. Stop thinking, start feeling, and start  _ doing _ ,”

That last sentence had been whispered directly into his ear. Well, directly into his ear through the fabric of the mask. Nevertheless, it sent shivers down his spine. She was, as always, right. He was overthinking this. Gabriel Agreste could feel as guilty as he wanted later, Hawkmoth could take the opportunity he had before him.

“Take off your hat,” he ordered her, his voice hoarse and raspy with the desire she’d always inspired in him but he’d held too tight a leash on before now.

“ _ Just _ my hat?” she teased, even as she acquiesced to his demand. The only thing Gabriel didn’t like about Mayura’s transformation was that it shortened her hair considerably. The singular curl was the only thing reminiscent of what he assumed were thick and silky locks of hair, which had featured predominantly in some of the nocturnal meanderings Gabriel’s subconscious mind conjured when sleep would finally come to him. Oh well, she still had a curl, and he could work with that.

“Patience my pretty little bird,” he assured her, “Why so eager?”

Mayura tapped the side of his nose, “That’s my little secret,” she told him,

“Oh?” he asked in reply, “And what would I have to do to find out what that secret is?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Mayura asked, eyes shining with an indefinable light. It was a mixture of amusement and desire.

“Well,” Hawkmoth pretended he didn’t care, “I think you know what comes next, don’t you?”

“Maybe I do,” Mayura replied coyly, “Maybe I don’t. This  _ is _ my punishment after all, what am I supposed to do Hawkmoth?”

“Your dress, take it off,”

“Are you sure?” Mayura asked him, “That might prove to be a bit difficult…”

“I’m confidence you’ll manage,” Hawkmoth purred in her ear, “You’ve always been quite resourceful, haven’t you?”

His arms had snaked around her as he spoke, settling just over the curve of her abdomen. He almost belabored the presence of his gloves, which sort of dulled the sensations of laying his hands on her person in such a proprietary manner. Not that Mayura seemed to mind. He could sense it already, her mind was whirring, trying to meet his expectations. Such a perfectionist, in all the best ways.

At last she softly murmured, “I’ve got it,” and out of his arms she stepped. Mayura closed her eyes and seemed to be concentrating on something.

Then he saw it, the change that rippled across her body. Of course, the outfit was a manifestation of the wielder’s vision. So, it could be changed at the user’s will. And magically, Mayura’s outfit melted away. The new one was perhaps a temporary creation, but one that would be forever seared into the villain’s mind. Lingerie, Mayura had crafted herself a set of magical lingerie. The brooch was settled in the valley between her breasts, pinned to a dark blue bra with magenta eyes decorating the cups. Clever girl, he couldn’t remove the bra since it would be equivalent to removing the brooch, but a bra didn’t  _ have _ to be taken off in order to get to what lay beneath it. And good lord, the bottom was perhaps even better than the top. The tights were now stockings, held up by garters. And lace, the barest scrap of lace was all that was left to protect her.

“Impressive,” Hawkmoth murmured appreciatively as he openly ogled her.

Mayura flushed lightly, cheeks turning a darker but still delicate shade of blue, “I aim to please Hawkmoth,” she replied.

“I can see that,” he remarked, “Now, don’t move,” she froze in her position, though her heart rate indicated she was anticipating his next move even though she didn’t have an idea of what it was. To be quite honest, neither did he.

He was making this up as he went along. And right now, he was simply enjoying the sight she provided all wrapped up like a present for him. So much temptation, in the form of blue. Blue skin, blue lace, blue garters, blue hair. Hawkmoth circled his partner and while he was behind her he slid a gloved hand along the side of her face, twirling that lone curl of hers about his index while his thumb brushed against her lips. Immediately, they parted, allowing him entry of he so desired. The sensation was different, feeling the heat of her mouth dulled through the glove. But she was obedient, and she lived to please. How much fun he could have with that. Hawkmoth felt his arousal further stir, becoming visible even as the magic of the suit allowed for a slim fit but ample comfort as he wore it. Of course it was slightly  _ less _ comfortable at the moment, all things considered, and it was becoming less so the long he let her go on. Hawkmoth let his other arm snake around Mayura’s waist, hauling her up against him and letting her know that all words of a punishment were just pretty lies, though lies that would keep up their pretense for as long as they both wanted it to. She couldn’t make a sound, muffled as she was, but she shivered and shimmied. Hawkmoth lowered his mouth to Mayura’s neck, pressing hot kisses and hickeys along the arch of it.

She let out a soft moan, loosening her lips enough so Hawkmoth could remove his hand and swept it over the curves of her body, yanking down her bra and exposing her breasts. He spun her around and slammed his mouth against hers. It was everything and nothing like he expected. Because they had such dominating personalities, it was no surprise that the moment they kissed it was nothing but a battle for control. Oh dear, it seemed Mayura was forgetting who was really in charge here. Hawkmoth broke apart and harshly whispered,

“Get on your knees,”

Mayura was panting from the intensity of their kiss. Her eyes stared into his and for a moment he wondered if she might refuse. But he needn’t have worried, without any shame she sank to the floor. Up at him she looked, licking her lips hungrily. He had to try and swallow past the lump of desire that had knotted up in his throat. Ideas, so many tempting ideas as she gazed at him from down below. But would that really be a punishment for her? Or simply torture for himself? Hawkmoth backed up and crooked a finger at her, Mayura moved with serpentine grace towards him; eyes shimmering with lust. Good lord, he’d never make it if he let her….

“Turn around, now,” he ordered, though his voice cracked and he knew that she had noticed. But she did as she was bade and that was when he noticed, “Oh, seems you didn’t think of everything, did you?” if he wanted, which he did, her panties would have to be pushed to the side. Odd, considering how thorough she’d been with the rest of the altered outfit, that she hadn’t considered an alternative with easier access. And he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to remove the garters and belt just to get to her.

Mayura glanced at him from over her shoulder, smirking, “Maybe I did, but thought it would be more of a challenge this way. After all, don’t you  _ enjoy _ a challenge Hawkmoth?”

He smirked, “Indeed I do,” from his cane he drew the sword and gently laid it along her skin, flat side against her so she wouldn’t be harmed. Under the side of the undergarments it went, and then with a flick of his wrist the fabric ripped. He repeated the motion on the other hip until the scrap fell away and there was nothing but her own desire to bar him entry.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked her, needing to be absolutely certain. He was a selfish, self-absorbed man. But she was one of the few people he found he couldn’t impose his own desires upon in matters of import like this. If she wanted it, she would need to tell him.

“Yes,” she moaned out at him, “Gods yes,  _ please _ !”

Hawkmoth felt his knees go weak and so he dropped to them. With the rustling of some fabric he was on top of and inside Mayura and it was everything he could have hoped for. She was sweet, seductive and forbidden and yet alluring because of it. But she wasn’t forbidden, was she? There was no one else, just Hawkmoth and Mayura and their desire for one another. And that fact, along with her body, was what Hawkmoth allowed himself to get lost in. The sounds of Mayura’s pleasure reverberated in the otherwise empty space. And then, he stopped. He could feel her surprise as he slowed, and then withdrew. They both hissed, and he felt her body clutching at him.

Her magenta eyes were angry and pleading as she looked over at him again, “Why?” she asked.

He smirked, sitting back against the curved wall, “It’s not much of a punishment if I’m doing all the work here. If you want to finish, then come here,”

Mayura quirked a brow in there, “Was that a pun, or simply an operative word?”

“What do you think?”

“Hm,” she made a show of sitting facing him, tapping her lips and pouting them just to tease him, “Knowing you, I think it might have been a bit of both,”

“Knowing you, I think you might be right,” he agreed.

“I’m  _ always _ right, aren’t I?” she purred, sauntering over and hovering over his lap but not sinking down as they both knew they wanted her to. But more than she wanted what prodded at her thigh, she wanted to hear him say it. To cede that bit of himself over to her, if only for the moment.

“Yes,” he rasped out hoarsely, “You are. My ravenous bird of prey,”

“Hm,” she smirked, slowly lowering herself back down, “My pretty little butterfly.”

For the next few moments, there was nothing that could be heard but an endless litany of soft sounds from the two villainous lovers. Sounds that echoed loud and multiplied in the empty space. The butterflies had long since departed back into their master’s cane, one which lay forgotten to the side in favor of more self-fulfilling endeavors. Mayura called out his name like a mortal supplicating to their god, and he did the same in return. When at last the high subsided the pair awoke to find her slumped against his mostly clothed chest. His breathing was still evening out, and she said nothing, though he felt the slight trembling of her thighs.

“What now?” he asked her.

Mayura was silent a moment, “I don’t know,” she replied, “I suppose,” she continued as she got up on unsteady legs, carefully slipping off of him and wincing at the soreness in her muscles, “Things go back to normal now.”

“You think I can do that after what we just-”

“Hawkmoth,” she silenced him, “We have a motive, we have a  _ goal _ and this was not part of it. The only way this could ever happen again would be-” she cut herself off a moment, contemplating, then shook her head, “No,” she said, “No, no, this  _ can’t  _ happen again.”

“And why not?”

“Because,” she replied, gathering the scraps of her clothing and holding them tightly to her body, “That would be a conflict of interest.”

She walked away from him, activating the elevator that led from this place, from their ivory tower where the complications of the real world could not touch them. Where there was no Gabriel Agreste, Nathalie Sancoeur, and all the relationships and rules that came with being who they were beneath the mask and behind the magic. As she descended back to reality, he saw a flash of blue light. Mayura was gone, she would be until he had need of her again. The problem was, was that his definition of needing Mayura had changed dramatically. And he wasn’t sure he could have things return to the way they once were ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading, I love you all and I'll see you sometime, bye!


End file.
